I'd like to think that's a perfect title -after much, much, much thinking-. I'd like to believe this will be the perfect poem, so I wait here for the right words to appear, hoping that eventually the right words will lead me to the perfect poem. Hoping to express what I must in a way to captivate your eyes. Hoping, but how do you hope when there's no hope? How do you speak without any words? How do you listen? When hearing is the problem. There's no such thing as a perfect poem-- much less a perfect title. In my mind there's a whole world of letters; an entire galaxy filled with verses and phrases, yet like a puzzle that cannot be solved, so is this poem. And how do I say I love you in a different way? When I know its been said enough times. How do I say I miss you without being too cliche? All the love songs have been sung, all the nostalgic poems have been written. I'm too late for romance, too early for nostalgia. There's no difference between this words and the next ones, there's not enough words, not enough languages, not enough civilizations to form the perfect phrase, the perfect verse, the perfect title... I love you, Je t'aime, Te amo, I miss you, Te extraΓ±o. Darling, come home.